


quick draw

by orca_mandaeru



Series: nct rarepair hell [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sheriff Johnny, Wild West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 12:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orca_mandaeru/pseuds/orca_mandaeru
Summary: Nothing exciting happens in this little town that Johnny is the sheriff of, until one Nakamoto Yuta.





	quick draw

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my series of short oneshots for nct ships with under 100 works in the ao3 tag!

It’s unusually cold, for a spring-going-on-summer day. Windy, too, and Johnny watches the hanging wooden sign crudely painted with the words “Sheriff” swaying from the gale. It’s a slow day, like every day in this tiny town. Crime is practically nonexistent, besides the occasional runaway teenager or disappearing chickens. 

Johnny’s squinting down at a brand new copy of Moby Dick, his leather boot-clad feet propped up on the desk like usual. Honestly, he only started doing that to piss off Taeyong, but the young doctor had started ignoring his bait soon enough and it became a habit. 

The door bangs open and Johnny looks up, a little grateful for any sort of break in the monotony. It’s Mark, his black hair slightly mussed. His shiny silver deputy badge is pinned to his shirt like he always insists on doing, even though he does basically nothing to warrant the title. “What is it, Mark?” 

He’s breathing slightly hard, but he stands up straight and collects himself. “Um, there’s a guy coming here.” 

“A- guy? Who? What happened?” Johnny asks patiently. Mark seems a little bit more frazzled than usual. 

“No, a new guy. A stranger.” Well, that explains it. No one ever comes to this town. It’s barely a blip on the map, with a population in the low hundreds and no exportable resources to speak of. The only time a new face is seen in town is when a relative or friend of a townsperson visits, and even then there’s prior warning. A stranger hasn’t come into town since Johnny was a little kid and a young Donghyuck had stumbled into town. 

Johnny swings his legs off the desk and sets his book down, leaning forward. “Stand behind me.” If they’re getting a newcomer in the town, even if they’re just passing through, they should look some sort of presentable. Mark hurries to obey, settling into place besides the hardwood desk with his hands clasped behind his back. 

Johnny’s a little bit apprehensive. Honestly, he’s not a real sheriff. He was only voted in to the position after his dad got too old because “he looked good with a badge and gun,” one older lady had said fondly. The only thing he’s ever used his gun for is to shoot cans at the town limits. If this stranger brings trouble, he won’t know the first thing to do.

The door swings open again, and in comes the stranger. The first thing that Johnny notices is that he sure looks strange, strange as in absolutely otherworldly. His dark brown hair is swept artfully away from his forehead, and there’s something about his eyes that makes them look sharp and bottomless all at once. Part of his effect is probably the way he holds himself as he strides into the little office, the casual hand resting on his gun belt and proud set of his shoulders. It’s the type of confidence that comes from experience.

Johnny is frozen inside, feeling remarkably young. He’s one of the oldest out of the kids in this town, and he takes pride in mentoring Mark and Donghyuck. This stranger doesn’t look to be that much older than him, but there’s innumerable stories behind those eyes, the jagged scar on the back of his hand. But Johnny can feel Mark stiffen beside him, so he squares his shoulders, gathers his confidence for the both of them. 

“Welcome to our little town, stranger!” Johnny says, proud to hear the way his voice comes out easy and friendly. Then the stranger smiles, and oh it’s even sharper than his eyes. Johnny remembers reading about strange animals called sharks once, creatures of the ocean that could rip you apart with one bite. He wonders if this is what it would feel like to stare a shark down, pinned to his seat by this stranger’s smile. 

“Little is right,” The stranger laughs, holding out his hand. Johnny takes it and shakes it firmly, noting the difference between his own soft palms and the tough calluses on the other’s. The stranger’s voice is softer than he expected, smooth and melodious. “I’m Yuta. I assume you’re the sheriff?” 

He nods. “I’m Johnny, and this is Mark.” He gestures to his “deputy,” trying not to laugh at the way the teenager jumps at the attention. Yuta smirks at the both of them, eyes dragging over the badges on their chests. Johnny gets the distinct impression that his play at competence isn’t fooling anyone. “What brings you here, Yuta?” Johnny asks, gaze catching on the Colt in the holster at his hip. 

Yuta shifts his weight, purses his lips in thought for a second. “Let’s just say I’m looking for a nice quiet place to settle down. I’ve had enough of excitement for a lifetime.”

Well, if Yuta’s looking for boredom, he’s come to the right place. Nothing remotely exciting ever happens here. If Yuta’s running from something, some sort of past that would push him to disappear into a no-name town, there’s a chance he could bring danger here. But if there’s one thing the town prides themselves on, it’s kindness. They can’t turn him away. 

“Well, you’re welcome here, Yuta. If you think you can handle living somewhere this small, that is. Oh, one thing. I’ll need to take your gun, I hope you understand.” 

Yuta smiles amicably, but his head cocks to the side and there’s something dangerous in his gaze. “Oh, sure. Come over here and take it from me, Sheriff.” The words are teasing but his voice is even, and Johnny doesn’t know what to think. Like he’s been put under a spell, Johnny gets up from behind the desk he’s so proud of, every step towards Yuta feeling like he’s falling farther into quicksand. 

Now that they’re both standing, Johnny can see that he’s a good few inches taller than Yuta, but he still feels smaller. Yuta’s nimble fingers are untying his holster from his belt, a smirk on his face as he holds eye contact. Johnny holds his breath so he doesn’t say something stupid and takes the revolver, fingers brushing over Yuta’s clothed hip. Even that tiny bit of near-contact feels electric, and Johnny decides then and there that this man is dangerous. 

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to send ships or prompts on [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.me/orca_mandaeru)  
> or  
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/orca_mandaeru)  
> .  
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> 
> YEEEEHAW


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